


welcome to the final show, hope you're wearing your best clothes

by Drakojana



Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Execution, Kind of Medieval AU, M/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 18:38:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11811915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drakojana/pseuds/Drakojana
Summary: "Do I mean anything to you?! Has it never crossed your mind that I don't want you to leave me? That I'll be sad if you die?""Of course it did. I am aware of it, very well…" He can't stand the sight in front of him anymore and his eyes fall to his own feet in an act of shame. "That's why I don't want to see you right now."





	welcome to the final show, hope you're wearing your best clothes

**Author's Note:**

> At this point, any Dark/Jack fic from me is more or less an unofficial present for GG :v

Jack's running through the morning crowd of the market like a madman. He's knocking over baskets and stools, pushing fruit and vegetables off the stands as he tries to find some support. He runs into people who shout after him but he couldn't care less.

He's late. He's terrified of the thought that he can miss it. He can't, he won't forgive himself if he's not going to see it. Even if Dark has specifically told him not to come.

Dark was so calm the day before, when Jack's last seen him, too.

 

* * *

 

The raven-haired man is sitting in the corner of his cell when he hears the clatter of the key turning in the old lock.

"You've got a visitor," one of the guards snarls and kicks on the rusty bars to get the prisoner's attention.

Dark sighs, getting up. When his eyes land on the man waiting outside of the cell, he can't help but think of one word.

_Pathetic_

"Jack, what are you even doing here?" His own voice is raspy and quiet. He hates how he sounds and tries to get back the right tone by clearing his throat.

The other man - a boy with big, hopeful blue eyes full of tears - stares at him in silence.

"You shouldn't have come." Dark doesn't want to see his face. But his eyes won't wander, they're stuck on Jack like he's the only thing in the whole room.  "I'm a dead man walking, what's the point of visiting me?"

The brown-haired boy grits his teeth. His hands are tangled in his worn-out, grey shirt, crumpling the fabric.

"How… how can you just…" His voice sounds so little and fearful but there is a hint of anger. He's definitely hurt and it's only natural he wants to bite at something back. Dark just happens to be the most convenient target.

"How can I just go and kill people? Well, that's obvious." Dark closes his eyes and a faint smile appears on his face. "I didn't like their attitude--"

He's interrupted by a loud slam of the boy's fist on the bars.

"How can you just treat me as if I don't matter?!" 

Dark winces at the outburst, noticing a guard giving them an annoyed side glance.

"Jack," he calmly says, putting his hands up. "Don't--"

Again, he's not allowed to finish his sentence.

There are ugly tears running down Jack's face now. He slams the other hand on the metal and glares at Dark with as much spite as he can.

"Do I mean anything to you?! Has it never crossed your mind that I don't want you to leave me? That I'll be sad if you die?"

He looks and sounds so broken, so hurt, like an injured animal that can't even move but won't allow others to touch it. Dark wants to reach out to him, to calm him down. But with the crimes that weigh down his soul, he can't even stick his hand out of the cell without the guards' permission.

"Of course it did. I am aware of it, very well…" He can't stand the sight in front of him anymore and his eyes fall to his own feet in an act of shame. "That's why I don't want to see you right now."

Jack huffs and backs away from the bars, giving him a look of bewilderment.

"Is that all you have to say?" He whispers, wiping one of his eyes with a fist.

How Dark wishes he could uncurl those trembling fingers, he despises seeing them express feelings that don't belong in the boy's soul. And how he despises himself for falling for this wonderful mortal.

Every century he makes the same mistake. Every single time, sooner or later, a human finds him. A human wearing their heart on their sleeve, with bright eyes like crystal clear skies. And every time Dark finds himself entranced with such human.

Also, every time the goodbye looks the same. And feels just as painful, though the pain disappears as quickly as he rids himself of the current body.

But there is something about this human, Jack. Dark doesn't want to let go of him just yet. Maybe he can make an exception just for him, expose his true nature, though there will be a price to pay for this.

The raven-haired man looks at the guard standing nearby, eyeing him warily. Just a couple of seconds, it's all he needs. A simple distraction. He turns around so that nobody will see his eyes. When he hears Jack take another step back, he says.

"Don't go just yet."

Dark's aware of the fact that he's in no position to make demands. It's not the answer Jack wants or deserves. But he can't reveal himself to the boy just yet.

" _Aema assima, eretrev mucric,_ " he mumbles, looking in the guard's direction. The spell works immediately, the armoured man looks away from them with confusion.

The moment the guard turns his back on them, Dark turns on his heel and reaches out through the bars to grasp the boy's hands.

"Jack, listen to me very carefully," his voice breaks and he curses the feelings going wild in his mind.

Jack takes a sharp breath at the sudden movement but says nothing, simply staring at Dark with eyes that are still burning with betrayal and fury.

"I need you not to come tomorrow. Promise, that you won't come see the execution."

Again, he has no right to make any requests. But it's all he's got, and he's holding onto the hope that Jack will change his mind, that for once the boy will listen to him.

Dark watches Jack's expression change. From irritation, through bafflement, to fear. But in the end, it's back to the same righteous anger.

"Why are you always like this?" The boy chokes out, narrowing his eyes. He tries to yank his hands away from Dark's grip, but the other doesn't let him.

They're running out of time, Dark already senses the spell wear off on the guard. He squeezes Jack's hands once again and repeats.

"Promise, Jack."

He's not expecting anything, honestly. Jack can say nothing, he can leave without a word, without a simple gesture. But surprisingly, he nods. Although the boy does look like he's fighting on the inside, he agrees.

Dark releases his hands from his grip and steps back into his cell.

"We'll see each other again," he says when Jack is about to leave, new tears in the boy's eyes.

"When, in the afterlife?" Jack sniffs with a sad smile.

"If you keep your word, perhaps much earlier."

 

* * *

 

Jack knows he's too late the moment he sees the sky turn red. People start running the opposite way, mostly women with their children. They're screaming, begging for help. Telling him to turn around and save himself.

As if that's going to stop him. The main square comes into the view and he stops abruptly at the end of the street.

The town hall is on fire, and along with it, everything around. Flames dance on whatever they can reach, grow larger with every piece of wood they can set ablaze, with every body they can claim.

But Jack doesn't spare any of the victims a second glance. There is only one he's looking for, as he continues his mad dash right into the flames. He wants to scream the name, though that won't help. Dead men don't have a voice.

He hears someone shout, people are passing buckets of water to each other to put out the fire. Nobody is as foolish as him, though, to just step into the fire. So nobody goes after him at first, either.

Jack gets closer and closer to the centre of the hellish chaos, his eyes jumping from one place to another. He can't find what - _who_ he's looking for anywhere. No signs of the black hair, ragged prisoner clothes, anything. He's not even considering the possibility that everything around him is burnt already, engulfed in the flames to the point of no recognition.

The fire starts licking his skin, too. His shirt catches on fire but Jack doesn't care. He has to find Dark, no matter what. If that means he'll die there, he won't mind. There is no point of him living in this world anymore anyway.

Before he can pass out from the heat, or inhaling too much of the deadly air, he hears a shout behind him again. This time it's loud and clear, and it's his name. The voice is unfamiliar, though, but at the time anything that doesn't belong to Dark is strange to Jack. The person grips his shoulder and he gets thrown back.

He screams and kicks them, saying incoherent things that nobody can understand, not even himself. There is Dark's name in there but none of the sentences are correct. He cries and shrieks but his supposed saviour seems to get annoyed with his behaviour and a blunt hit to the head renders him unconscious.

 

* * *

 

Dark eyes the crowd that's gathered on the main square. Oh, how foolish they all are. Every single one of those humans have come here to watch his demise when it will be their bodies that will drop dead soon.

The executioner sharpens his axe as an officer standing right next to Dark reads the king's decree.

"You have committed heinous crimes against the king and the God themselves!" He shouts in a prideful voice, most likely enjoying the moment of a brief triumph over a criminal.

Dark thinks it's laughable and ironic. But this is everyone's last hour, so he will let them all feel happy all they want. He'll feel even more satisfaction to take it all away.

"The only suitable punishment for those sins is death." The officer rolls the paper back theatrically. "Do you have any last words?"

"There is no God, and I am not scared of your king," Dark grins with too many teeth. If they're going to cut his head off, it better be painful. "See you in hell."

He gets so many looks of shock and disgust. They call him a monster, a heathen, a traitor. How ridiculous it is, he almost laughs in their faces.

Everyone chants his death, they want to see his head roll. Dark simply looks over the crowd one more time.

Jack isn't here. At least, not yet. He knows the boy won't be able to stay away, he'll come eventually. Dark closes his eyes, hoping that his stubbornness won't make him step right into the death's arms.

He gets kicked in the legs, they make him bend and kneel. Dark doesn't make a single sound, not until his head is pressed against the cold wood. The blade hangs right above his neck.

Jack will feel this one. But he's promised, and Dark is doing it all just for him.

Dark opens his eyes. They glow furious red. Time for the show to begin.

" _Singi munretea, eraticxe!_ "

 

* * *

 

Jack has no idea what time it is when he wakes up. He's lying on the ground, among the ashes, and everything aches. The fire's been put out already, the bodies taken away. He feels numb to everything. There are no more tears in his eyes to spill, no more shouts to rip from his chest.

No will to live.

It's dark already, the night breeze hits his pale arms and he wraps them around himself to preserve some heat. Somebody walks past him and pats him on the shoulder, advising the boy to go home. A lot has happened that day.

Jack doesn't even look at them. His legs eventually move on their own, choosing the direction of his house. It's a long way, through the whole town, and every step is painful. But he can't be bothered to feel anything right now.

His mind blanks out, and he only feels like himself when he's on his own doorstep. The door is slightly ajar, exactly the way he's left it in the morning. Somebody could've easily broken in and stolen everything from him. Again, Jack doesn't care. He's never owned anything valuable anyway.

He rests the palm of his hand on the rusty handle. The house that's waiting for him just behind the door is empty and cold. It's not worth coming back to. But something whispers at the back of his mind to enter, anyway.

That maybe, just maybe he'll be able to move on. Piece his broken heart back together.

Find someone new.

Jack shakes his head at the last thought. It's too early for him to think about it. He pushes the door wide open, expecting, well, nothing. But nothing is the way he wants it to be.

There is a happy flame dancing in the fireplace, illuminating the living room. A pleasant smell of food and some incense fills the air. It's impossible, Jack thinks. How come he hasn't noticed anything through the windows? Hasn't smelt anything through the open door?

He walks in, looking around in fear. Has somebody walked in and just made themselves home, regardless of the fact that it's not theirs? Jack's been through a lot already, and the last thing he needs is to lose the roof above his head. That would be the finishing kick to the stomach. The final nail to the coffin.

Somebody is waiting for him in one of the chairs in the corner. The light doesn't reach their face, and the silhouette is not enough to guess their identity. But as soon as they speak, Jack's eyes go wide.

"Welcome home, Jack."

It's _him_. He's just sitting there, in his favourite chair, like he belongs there. As if he's always been in this spot, waiting patiently for the boy to return.

Jack doesn't know what to think at this point. He falls to his knees and hides his face in his hands because his heart can't take anything anymore. He's already accepted everything, and even now, it's been flipped over.

He weeps and wails, tears soak his hands, seep through his fingers and fall on the worn-out desks of the floor. And he does not stop when he hears the other person in the room get up from the chair and walk up to him. But when the raven-haired man speaks, and the deep voice reaches Jack's ears, he moves.

"Get up." It's a dry command.

Jack finds himself following the order as he gets back up to his feet. But the hands don't leave his face yet. He doesn't want the other to see his exhausted, tragic face. Or maybe he's scared that it's just an illusion that will disappear the moment he looks at it again.

So the hands are forcefully ripped away a second later, and his blue eyes meet burning red.

Dark does not disappear. Maybe he looks a bit younger, a bit more colourful. But it's still him. Exactly the way Jack remembers.

Dark kisses the boy's knuckles on each hand before he pulls him close. He doesn't need to say anything. Neither of them does. Jack buries his face in the crook of the man's neck, breathing in the familiar scent. 

And suddenly, everything's alright. 

**Author's Note:**

> The two spells are backwards Latin.  
> Aema assima, eretrev mucric - Circum vertere, amissa amea - Turn around, lost soul  
> Singi munretea, eraticxe - Excitare, aeternum ignis - Wake up, eternal flame
> 
> Title comes from the song [**Sign of the Times** by Harry Styles](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qN4ooNx77u0)


End file.
